Brahms & Berg - Violin Concertos

Alban Berg was only twelve when Brahms died in Vienna in 1897; he was just a glimmer in his parents' eyes, however, when his predecessor penned his violin concerto for Joseph Joachim. Nevertheless, Brahms's 1878 and Berg's 1935 masterpieces form a fine pairing, a sort of Viennese post-Romantic fons et origo.

Earlier this year, Isabelle Faust, the Orchestra Mozart and Claudio Abbado paired the Berg with the Beethoven concerto. Placing the Beethoven last, the darkness of the Berg found its way to the light of classicism. On this new disc from Virgin Classics, Renaud Capuçon, the Wiener Philharmoniker and Daniel Harding leave us with the Berg, a vanishing memento mori.

Brahms and Berg's world provokes that kind of nostalgia. Compared with our own times, those halcyon days of literary, artistic and musical experiment seem rich and rare to us. Yet delivering these works through a dewy-eyed haze undermines the potency of the memory. The orchestral playing is, to a larger extent, exquisite, employing that characteristic honeyed Central European tone, which, when the VPO is on form, none can better. But wedded to Harding's languorous tempi and communicated through endlessly merging phrases, the effect is choking, as if one were drowning in Schlagobers.

Capuçon has a comparably sweet tone, paying dividends in the lyrical passages of the Brahms and the closing 'Es ist genug' chorale in the Berg. Yet he also brings aggression and attack. There's real muscularity in the earlier concerto - not least in its vertiginous cadenzas - similarly provoking fury in the Berg, as the composer's grief over the death of Manon Gropius manifests itself across a vast emotional range.

But it always feels like Capuçon's candied-cum-choleric energies are anchored to Harding and the Viennese's somewhat starchy approach. The passing of the 'Hauptstimme' from soloist to orchestra in the Berg reveals much about that discrepancy: while the soloist has inner direction, the orchestra sounds unassertive (equally true in the finale of the Brahms).

However voluptuous the VPO - bringing substantial heft to the Höhepunkt in Berg's second movement - it proves too rich over the course of an entire disc. Capuçon's innate understanding of the vitality of these works deserves more insistent partners. As it is, the disc is much like its cover image, a blurred sepia hankering for times gone by. Sadly, however equal Capuçon is to the task, Isabelle Faust's recent account wins on the strength of its collaborators.

My initial reaction on learning of this release was mixed. With the dearth of new recordings issued by the major labels, did we really need another recording of the Brahms concerto, especially as it is not so long since we had the Znaider accompanied by the VPO under Gergiev? Granted that every virtuoso violinist wants to put his stamp on this colossus of the repertoire, but surely with so many great recordings already available we did not need another? Furthermore, I was less than impressed with Daniel Harding's first outing with this great orchestra, my own personal favourite, finding his Mahler 10 beautiful but bland.
The mitigating factor was the coupling of the Berg, recorded at last with the VPO, and so I gave in to temptation.
All reservations were swept aside from the opening bars! I'll waste no time in asserting that this disc is exquisite!
I believe we are entering new territory in that this recording is made for EMI by ORF, using their own "Funkhaus" now rechristened the "Radiokulturhaus" as the venue for the recording, rather than the expected Musikverein or Konzerthaus. More often the venue for the Wien RSO , this Art Deco style building in Weiden encompasses a complex of studios of various sizes much in the manner of Maida Vale for the BBC, but also includes a medium sized concert hall with abundant wood panelling, a tiered platform all very reminiscent of an Odeon cinema of the 1930's-and superb acoustics!!.
The sonic results are amazing-all the warmth and richness of the orchestra is captured with plenty of airy headroom, and yet detail is revealed forensically as perhaps never before. If this is the start of a new series of recordings featuring this orchestra in this venue---then give me more of it!
I heartily applaud the decision to juxtapose these 2 works on one recording-lovers of either work will be delighted, and hopefully those who might shy away from the Berg will be tempted by the Brahms-and if any conversions are likely to be made, it will be by this most romantic of all performances of the Berg.
However, we begin with the Brahms. In the concise but excellent booklet, Capuçon pays tribute the classic 1950's recording of the Brahms by Christian Ferras with the VPO under Schuricht-and it is indeed Ferras who is brought to mind in the poised, elegant playing by this young virtuoso, with exquisite beauty of tone while never allowing the playing to become syrupy.
Daniel Lane drives the orchestra forward in perfectly judged tempi in collaboration with his soloist, and the return of the Kreisler cadenza in favour of the Joachim makes a welcome change, especially when accomplished so effectively. I will go so far as to assert that there is no finer modern account of this work available, either in terms of artistry or recording.
I am hard put to not assert the same for the Berg! Having recently extolled the virtues of the reissued Kremer/Davis/BRSO recording, I did not expect to find myself praising another version even higher, but such is the case!
The sensitivity with which both violinist and conductor takes us through this masterpiece is breathtaking-literally-for I held my breath through much of it on first playing, I was so transfixed. Never have I heard so much inner detail revealed-the Austrian Folk Melody in the first movement clearly uncovered and found to be as affecting as the Bach quotation in the second. The concerto sums up Berg's reaction to the death of Manon Gropius of course. The orchestra is entirely at home in this idiom, and the angry , frustrated outbursts railing against the injustice of one so young being taken from us which open and feature in the second movement are played with tremendous weight, the tam tam and are percussive effects clearly audible, in no small measure thanks to the acoustic.
The glossy presentation is beautiful, and this disc must now be a top recommendation for either work-and as a combination is unchallenged.
Just exquisite! Unlimited Stars. Stewart Crowe.

Renaud Capucon is one of the great violinists and his partnership with Daniel Harding proves very fruitful again in this unusual coupling. The two works, both having a close connection with Vienna, go very well together, suggesting that city over two different centuries. The sound of Capucon's violin is beautiful without any picturesque aspect, sounding very fine indeed against the plush Vienna strings and their immaculate ensemble. The Brahms is given a muscular, subtle performance with fine orchestral detail - I've never been able to separate out the different wind strands in the slow movement as here, for instance, with the violin embedded in the orchestral texture, yet soaring nonetheless. I would say it was quite a rugged approach, beautifully sprung, and somehow sounding as if the notes were still wet on the page. I don't know how they achieve this, but they do. I like the way the lyricism isn't too effulgent - I first heard this piece in a very ripe Isaac Stern reading - but Brahms' passion couldn't be more present. The slow movement is tender and finely paced, while the finale fairly dances along, set off by a strong emphasis across both strings in the rondo subject, without excessive vibrato, yet vibrant. The high interjections from the violin, going up an octave out of the double-stopping, are electrifying - Capucon's tone seems to expand like an enormous bow launching an arrow to the heavens. Speaking of double-stopping, he plays the less familiar cadenza by Kreisler that has more of this technique than Joachim's and helps the piece to sound fresh and vivid - while also making a better link to the Berg where double-stopping is also much in evidence. Capucon and Harding give a heartfelt reading of this extraordinary work, which sounds far more like chamber music than the Brahms, far more diffident in its expression, as if not quite sure its voice will be permitted ... The clarity of the recording is exemplary here, bringing out many orchestral details I had never picked up before. Yet the undercurrent of Romanticism is very much there in feeling if not in the harmonic language - it is these disparate, even contradictory elements that make it so fascinating, leading up to the magical statement of the Bach chorale which Capucon voices very beautifully. The cover is worth attention in its own right - a superb evocation of Jugendstil lettering with a decorative surround, and Capucon himself looking very much like a latterday Kreisler in a sepia that seems to span the decades.